


Mutability in Motion

by bob2ff, pinecone



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Friendship, Humor, Introspection, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bob2ff/pseuds/bob2ff, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinecone/pseuds/pinecone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Midorima begins to change, Takao finds himself out of depth. Like any good friend, he tries to help. In the process, he discovers new things about himself, Midorima, and most of all, their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As most things that are momentous in retrospect, it did not happen with dramatic fanfare. Now, Takao loved drama. In fact, most of the time _he_ was the one masterminding in order to squeeze every drop of dramatic potential out of any situation, anyway. It was a point of pride with him, along with his Hawk Eye.

But all the Hawk Eyes in the world could not have prepared him for what happened in the few months after Shuutoku had lost to Rakuzan.

Shin-chan had begun to change.

As most changes that are momentous in retrospect, it happened so normally, it was almost sinister. Except that it hadn’t been sinister. Instead, it had happened quietly, sadly, like a beautiful flower being stepped on, unknowingly.

Shin-chan had begun to change, and all the Hawk Eyes in the world could not prepare Takao to figure out what, how, or why it had happened.

It was a regular day. Takao had done everything as normal — he had made the long, hard trek towards Shuutoku, lugging the rickshaw in the morning. He had double-checked the supply of bandages in the Shuutoku locker room, to make sure Shin-chan had enough to tape his fingers. He had even checked Oha Asa that morning to make sure Cancer was not ranked somewhere near the last. It had become a habit to do so, just to gauge Shin-chan’s mood for the day.

As Takao entered Shuutoku’s locker room, all he saw was a broad back. Smirking, he made to pounce on Shin-chan. He loved making Shin-chan squawk, and watch the flush rise at the back of his neck. Not to mention the feel of Shin-chan’s muscles, stiffening and jumping under his skin. Shin-chan always had the best reactions to Takao’s overtures.

When he did it, however, Shin-chan did not squawk. He _had_ stiffened. But he followed that with shoving Takao away, firmly.

Takao smiled, anyway. At this point, he smiled at everything Shin-chan did. Someone like Shin-chan, guarded and prickly, always needed smiles. Takao firmly believed that.

“Aw, why so grumpy, Shin-chan? Cancer’s ranked third today!” Takao slung an arm around Midorima and practically hung off him as he sat next to him on the bench. Then he noticed something.

He grabbed Midorima’s hand. “You didn’t tape your fingers today! Are you sick, Shin-chan?” Takao put his other hand on Midorima’s forehead.

Midorima leaned away from Takao. “You’re being too touchy today.” He was acting like Takao’s touch was hurting him, flinching away. He was avoiding Takao’s eyes, too.

Takao smiled, even as he felt slightly hurt at Midorima’s reaction. He knew Shin-chan’s tsundere facade so well he could do charades on it and everyone would guess the right answers.

But Midorima’s reaction that time had been genuine, he could tell. Shin-chan had not wanted Takao there.

“I’m like a cat, Shin-chan,” he winked, smiling cheekily. “I gotta have my daily dose of touching you.”

Even then, Midorima’s flush did not rise as usual. He did not even deign Takao’s comment with a reply. And his fingers— they were still untaped.

Now Takao really _was_ worried. He pulled out a roll of bandages from his locker, and crouched in front of Midorima. He tried to catch Midorima’s eyes — but Shin-chan seemed oddly dazed.

He gently started rolling the bandages around Midorima’s fingers. Yet again, Midorima made to pull away. “What are you doing?” he demanded, even as his fingers twitched with the desire to get out of Takao’s grip.

“I’m taking care of Shuutoku’s ace,” Takao stuck out his tongue as he concentrated on bandaging Midorima’s fingers properly. Man, Shin-chan made it look so _easy_. He did it with such grace, too, like crafting a sushi roll. The way Takao was doing it now, Shin-chan’s fingers were starting to look more like a burritos than anything else.

“Cancer’s ranked third, not first today. As your faithful shadow, I can’t let anything happen to you.” He added a wink as he finished the first burrito — he meant, Shin-chan’s thumb.

“I wouldn’t know,” Midorima said loftily. His voice wasn’t even the usual disdainful, holier-than-thou voice that characterized Midorima Shintarou’s superior attitude. It sounded dull, and flat. “I forgot to check Oha Asa today.”

Takao suddenly went still, and his fingers hovered above Shin-chan’s. “What?” he said, very quietly. Shin-chan had tried to make it sound like a throwaway, casual statement, but Takao _knew_ Midorima Shintarou. He was _never_ casual. Everything was deliberate, and conscious, with him.

As Takao’s hands stiffened above his own, Midorima finally pulled his hands out of Takao’s grip. Midorima sighed, and somehow Takao knew the Shin-chan he knew was coming back. He could feel it in his guts. And Takao had _great_ instincts.

“Give me the tape,” Midorima ordered. Takao felt the relief wash over him like a warm blanket on a winter’s day as he recognized Shin-chan in Midorima’s voice.

Starting to whistle, he passed Shin-chan the tape, brushing his fingers over Shin-chan’s comfortingly, intentionally. Letting him know, wordlessly, of his support. Shin-chan did not even blink.

“You’ve done it all wrong. You should strive to be less incompetent.” He began unwrapping Takao’s hard work, and beautiful burrito, expertly. And began his craft of sushi-making.

Takao just smiled, yet again. He leaned on Midorima contentedly, and continued whistling. Midorima let him lean on him, this time.

The Shin-chan he knew was back. Takao was relieved, but he felt worry, and dread, settle in his stomach uncomfortably, like he had swallowed something cold and wet.

He wished he could treat the moment that had just passed, as just one of Shin-chan’s bad days. But Takao had great instincts. And somehow he knew it wasn’t just a one-time thing.

***

The next time it happened, Takao hadn’t been prepared in the slightest. It was like a sudden drop to him, as though he stepped into an elevator shaft, only to find there hadn’t been any floor. He hadn’t even sensed it, for all his great instinct. To Takao, the fact that he hadn’t noticed it happening was just as heartbreaking as the change he saw in Midorima.

It happened during their English test. Takao had leaned over to Midorima’s desk, nonchalantly grabbing Midorima’s pencil case to take out his lucky pencil. Just as his hand reached Midorima’s case, however, Midorima had immediately laid his hand onto Takao’s.

“Takao. What are you doing.” Midorima pinned Takao with a glare. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

So Takao responded like he normally would. “Aww, Shin-chan! I’m sure you can spare me one of your pencils, right? You spend nearly every evening carving a new one anyway. How many have you done already, four? Just one more for the last Miracle buddy!”

He winked. “Or maybe...one especially just for me?”

Midorima continued meeting Takao’s eyes with his glare. “I can’t spare you any lucky pencils, because there aren’t any in my pencil case, Takao. So kindly take your hands off my belongings.”

Takao blinked. “No lucky pencils? But Shin-chan! We have a test today! Don’t you want to make sure you do everything you can to get top marks as always?” Midorima merely sniffed, turning away from Takao’s face. Then suddenly, he became conscious of Midorima’s hand on his.

He could feel every slender digit, every prized finger. Each one of them was smooth and warm. Warm, as though Takao’s hand was wrapped snugly by a soft, cashmere glove. It was all very comforting, to Takao. Despite this, though, it was wrong.

It was wrong precisely because he could feel Midorima’s fingers.

Shocked, Takao reeled back. His hand slipped out from beneath Midorima’s. The warmth vanished, abruptly. Takao stared at Midorima with wide eyes.

“Shin-chan! You didn’t tape your fingers again!”

Midorima blinked. He lifted his fingers to inspect them. “Hm. It appears I didn’t.” He directed a wry look at Takao. “What an astute observation, Takao.”

“But Shin-chan! Why didn’t you?” It was getting difficult to control the volume of his voice. Every sentence out of his mouth was an exclamation of some sort. With his Hawk’s eye, he could see their classmates starting to look curiously over at the pair.

Midorima blinked, again. “Why didn’t I?” he repeated. A short pause. “It wasn’t necessary for me to do so anymore, Takao. There wasn’t any logic to the action, so I stopped doing it. It is merely as simple as that. The same is true with the lucky pencils.”

Takao heard his words, but they sounded like a distant echo to him. It was as though he was standing on one mountain, and Midorima was on another. The Midorima he knew used to be on the same mountain as him, all quirks included. All of a sudden, this was now in the recent past.

“They were pointlessly illogical. So I stopped making them.” Midorima looked at Takao disapprovingly. “Now get ready for the test, Takao. You’re holding everyone up.”

Takao stood up in his desk. He ignored Midorima’s words. “Shin-chan! What’s the matter with you? Are you sick? The ball I threw at your head yesterday— did it _really_ make you get even crazier? You know I was just kidding when I said that you were so insane that one hit on the head wouldn’t do anything, right?”

The thing was, Midorima wasn’t actually crazier. He was acting like everyone else. To Takao, this exactly meant that something was wrong with him.

“Shut up with your ridiculous nonsense, Takao, and get ready for the test,” was Midorima’s response. The sentence came out of Midorima’s mouth smoothly, like nothing had changed. But things _had_ changed. Takao could see it in the way Midorima blinked, listless and heavy, like each eyelid carried the weight of the world. He could see it in the way Midorima leaned his head on his hands. It was like he couldn’t keep it upright and erect, even though upright and erect were all the things Takao normally associated with him.

“Takao Kazunari-kun!” Takao didn’t need to turn his head to know that the teacher was glaring at them. “Stop bothering Midorima-kun again — this is the fifth time I’m telling you! Sit down! We’re going to start the test.”

Takao lowered his body onto his chair, slowly. His entire gaze was still pinned on Midorima, even when the test arrived on his desk. His entire, precious, Hawk’s eye gaze.

What was the point of having the Hawk’s eye, though, if he couldn’t sense something so crucial? He hadn’t been able to perceive the change in his friend. Not just any friend, however. It was _Midorima._

His Hawk’s eye could still help Midorima on the court. His court sense would still be able to improve. But there wasn’t any point to all that, if it couldn’t be used to perceive this most important thing.

As Takao turned to face his test, all the words looked jumbled in his sight. He was sure to fail this test, especially without Shin-chan’s lucky pencil to help him. Especially when he was feeling as though he was lost in a dark, dense forest. In that forest, he hadn’t even the slightest knowledge of how to get out of there. He hadn’t the slightest knowledge of why Shin-chan was behaving this way. Of how to help Shin-chan.

After the test — Takao had haphazardly drawn some circles in the multiple-choice section, and then, even in the section _without_ multiple choices — Midorima got up from his desk and strode out of the classroom, regal and proud. Takao immediately followed him.

“Hey, Shin-chan! Why don’t I take you home on the rickshaw, huh? I’m sure Oha Asa wants Cancers like you to rest, right?”

To Takao, his own voice sounded unnaturally high. A forced cheerfulness. He had never done that with Shin-chan before. Every time he spoke to him, it had been genuine.

Midorima suddenly paused in his motion. Takao slammed right into his back. Swearing, he lifted a hand to rub his forehead. Then he looked up, to see that Midorima had turned around to face him.

His eyes looked dark, darker than their usual green. “It’s fine. I don’t have a need for your rickshaw services, Takao. I’ll be perfectly alright walking home alone. And unfortunately, I have no idea what Oha Asa has said about Cancers. I didn’t listen to it today.”

Then he turned, and walked away from Takao.

Takao gaped. Had a ghost _possessed_ Shin-chan?

 


	2. Chapter 2

Takao was on a mission. He was going to exorcise Midorima Shintarou.

He had racked his brains, again and again, to try and figure out what this sudden, slightly sinister, slightly sad, change was, that had swept over Shin-chan.

This was the only logical explanation he could come up with— Shin-chan must have been possessed by a ghost. There was no other reason to explain the lack of obsession over Oha Asa. The non-taping of his fingers. The lack of religious adherence to superstition.

Midorima Shintarou had always _believed,_ with all the faith and neediness of someone dependent on perfecting, punishing standards on himself. Midorima had relied on, and had _needed_ , those higher powers to supplement his own belief in himself. The only way he would stop believing in all those things _had_ to be something as crazy as ghost possession.

“Shin-chan!” Takao strode up to Midorima with bold, confident steps. He slammed his hands on Midorima’s broad shoulders, and stared straight into his eyes.

Midorima just stared at him, silently glaring. “Takao. Why are you being more infuriating than usual?”

Takao suddenly dumped some drops of water on him, with the flair of a Shinto priest. “This is some holy water I got from Meiji Shrine! Be gone, ghost! Leave Shin-chan alone! He is the worst possible candidate for possession you will ever have!”

There was one beat of silence. Then another. Then, “Takao. What in the world are you talking about. You are blithering more idiotically than usual.”

Takao only leaned in further. Shin-chan’s remarkably pretty green eyes were up close now. This ghost had higher endurance than he anticipated, if it could withstand the holy water. Or — an epiphany hit Takao like a rickshaw at full speed.

“Are there _two_ Midorima Shintarous?” Takao exclaimed, scrutinizing Midorima’s face with the best of his Hawk’s eye.

“Akashi’s dual personality disease must contagious!” After all, Shin-chan had only started acting weird after Shuutoku had encountered Rakuzan.

“Shin-chan, come back!” Takao wailed, gripping Midorima’s shoulders desperately. “Don’t let your other self consume your true self!”

Takao almost stumbled as Midorima shoved his hands off his shoulders.

“Takao. Stop being more ridiculous than even how you usually are. I have not been possessed by a ghost. Nor do I have Akashi’s...psychological issue.”

Takao tentatively raised his hands. He rested it on Midorima’s shoulders, again. Shin-chan seemed resigned, and let him do it. Takao leaned in, close, again. He was so close he could see every eyelash framing Shin-chan’s eyes. He could even feel Shin-chan’s breath, gently floating on his face, like a caress.

“Then...why haven’t you been taping your fingers? Why haven’t you been listening to Oha Asa?” What happened to the Shin-chan he knew who had always hid his insecurities behind a strong faith in an outside power?

“We lost, Takao,” the bitterness in Midorima’s voice almost broke Takao’s heart. “I taped my fingers, but we still lost. I listened to Oha Asa, but we still lost. I—” there, his voice broke off.

The silence that fell after that between them had the echoes of the buzzer beater sounding Shuutoku’s defeat, and the announcement of “the winning team, Rakuzan!”. It had the emptiness of the Shuutoku’s absence in the Winter Cup finals.

Midorima took a deep breath. Then, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results. Einstein said that.”

Shin-chan sounded normal again, lecturing with his lofty, superior voice. “The only logical thing to do is to stop these pointless exercises. And to focus on training, and developing myself beyond mediocrity.”

But Takao knew him. He could sense the undercurrent of despair, and _lostness_ , in Shin-chan’s voice, right then. It was like a raw, ugly wound, covered in fancy wrappings and glitter.

Yet, Takao had not been able to say anything. Listening to Shin-chan, it had felt as though Takao’s voice had curled up and died in his throat. He had not been able to think of any words to say.

All he could do was watch Shin-chan, with his Hawk’s Eye, that he suddenly felt was utterly useless. What use was it, when he had not been able to help Shuutoku _win_? What use was it, when he had not noticed Shin-chan, slowly breaking down, right in front of him?

Takao should have noticed earlier, all the things he now saw in Shin-chan, standing in front of him. The hunched, stiff shoulders, in contrast to the typically proud, regal bearing of Midorima Shintarou. His hands, finger bare, trembling ever so slightly. Somehow, Shin-chan looked smaller, without a lucky item faithfully in his hands. Somehow, he looked more _fragile_.

Takao had never seen Shin-chan like that. At that moment, he did not know what to do.

***

On the court, whenever Takao was at a loss, all he had to do was look for Shin-chan. That was the benefit of having one of the Miracles in his team. That was the benefit of having _Shin-chan_ on the team. His shots were always so dependable, so accurate, they swathed Takao with a deep sense of security he had never experienced before.

In matters other than basketball, however, Takao had to deal with them himself. The way he normally dealt with a problem was to ram at it, like a crazed rhinoceros, until it either went away or was trampled into oblivion. With this, however, he couldn’t do that. It was Shin-chan’s heart and mind that was in trouble. For something like this, Takao had to treat the problem like he was carrying an egg across a floor of glass shards.

He started with observing Midorima. Pinning his every movement, his every decision, with a sharp, intense gaze, then recording them mentally. Eventually, he reached a point where he started doodling them into his near-empty school notebooks (at least they could now be used for something useful).

However, one frustrating day, Midorima had acted _too_ abnormally during cleaning duty. Or rather, since it _was_ Shin-chan, he had acted too much like any other person, sans weird quirks. Takao ended up dropping the notebook into a bucket of grey water just as he was scrawling into it. So his attempt at solving the problem systematically died a short, watery death, amidst the swirling murky waters of that bucket.

After that, Takao reverted to crazed rhinoceros mode. At the end of a school day, Midorima had stood up, about to leave the classroom. Takao immediately pounced on him.

“Shin-chan! Come with me for a while, okay?”

“Takao, I have lost count of the number of times I have already told you to stop being ridiculous—”

Midorima finished his sentence with an undignified squawk. Takao had pulled him by the wrist, leading him to the school grounds.

They soon arrived in front of the rickshaw. Once there, Takao released Midorima’s wrist. The action left his fingers cold. Shin-chan’s wrist had fitted so perfectly in his hand. The sensation was like abruptly getting out of a warm bath. A sudden coldness eclipsing a previous, comforting warmth.

“What are you doing, Takao.” Midorima crossed his arms, glaring at Takao. “I’ve told you, I don’t need the rickshaw anymore, because I no longer believe in Oha Asa—”

“Just get in, Shin-chan,” Takao interrupted. He didn’t want to hear Midorima say that sentence out loud. “I want to show you some stuff.”

Midorima continued glaring at him for a moment. Then he turned around, about to walk off without a word.

With a surge of strength befitting his rhinoceros mode, Takao jumped on Midorima and grappled him into the rickshaw. After the brief scuffle, which would remind anyone of an aggressive drake attacking a hen, Midorima reluctantly settled into the rickshaw, his spectacles slightly askew. Letting out a sigh, Takao got on the bicycle attached to it.

The first place they arrived at was a convenience store. Takao went straight to the crane game at the back of the store, then gestured emphatically at it.

“Remember this, Shin-chan? You tried so hard to get the stuffed penguin, and when you went broke, you got _me_ to do it! Wasn’t it worth it after all that trouble? Don’t you remember how satisfied you were after I finally got it for you?”

Midorima bristled immediately, his hand flying to his spectacles. “What are you trying to do, Takao. Are you fishing for an apology?” He tilted his head downwards, hiding his eyes. “Well, if so, then I suppose I owe you my gratitude for doing that for me…”

Takao didn’t listen to the rest; he had slapped his forehead. “ _No,_ Shin-chan…stop acting like this!” He pointed a forefinger at Midorima. “You’re supposed to say something selfish like ‘It’s not as if you had anything better to do anyway,’ or that ‘The effort is nothing in the face of the fates’— argh! Forget it! Next place, then.”

He grabbed Midorima’s wrist and dragged him to the rickshaw.

They went to an old, dilapidated shop selling antiquities next. The moment they reached the entrance, an old man with a straggly beard hobbled out. That man, frankly, looked like a homeless hobo.

Takao gestured at the man. “Shin-chan, don’t you remember him? I thought he was so weird! But when I expressed my concerns, you just said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Takao. It’s clear this man is a medium of some sort for Oha Asa.’ And then you proceeded to dump over twenty thousand yen buying the stuff he recommended!” He forced out a laugh. “You lapped up everything he said, even though all of it was most definitely crap!”

Midorima nodded slowly. “Yes. I do remember that. I now see that everything this man —“ he gestured at the old man as well, “— had said then was, indeed, ‘crap’, as you say…”

Takao slapped his forehead again. “Shin-chan, _no_! _I_ think it’s crap, you’re supposed to say that all the bogus stuff helped you or something!” He sighed heavily. “Never mind, next place then…”

They left the old man croaking, “Why don’t you buy some dried frog’s legs…very good for luck, you know…” and set off. Takao was determinedly cycling the rickshaw, his teeth gritting with effort. Sweat beaded on his forehead, trailing down to his neck. It was just as difficult as it always was, carrying Shin-chan on the rickshaw. In the recent past, he would have complained every step of the way. Not this time though. This time, he _wanted_ to carry Shin-chan. The burden pulled at his lungs, tying them up into complicated knots. Takao let all of this wash off him like a waterfall down a smooth, rolling hill.

When they reached the next place — a park — Takao grabbed Midorima’s wrist again. He dragged him until they reached the centre of the park, a clearing shaded by several tall, maple trees. The trees cast dappled shadows on the pair, making patterns like a chessboard. It was quiet, as though the two had been transported to a world consisting only of them both. The large maple trees, with their sweeping branches, seemed like ethereal entrance gates into their private little sphere.  

Takao spread his arms, gesturing around them. “Look, Shin-chan. Remember after the Interhigh? You forced me to come here with you to catch fourteen cicadas all because Oha Asa said you had to. It ended up being a fun summer experience after all —”

“Takao,” Midorima interrupted. He was starting to look very irritated. His fingers were twitching by his side, and his eyebrows were set in a furrow, a deep crack right in the middle of his smooth forehead. “Why are you taking me to all these places? If you want to convey something to me, just say it. Stop taking such a roundabout methodology. You are wasting my time, and yours.”

Silence stretched between both of them, like a sinister, black fog had suddenly overtaken their private little world. Midorima’s sentence made Takao slightly short of breath, as though he had just come across a fork in a road. He was at a loss. Shin-chan sounded like Shin-chan, but he wasn’t Shin-chan anymore.   

“All I want to do is show how your actions last time made your life better.” Takao’s throat seemed like it was made of sand paper. “Wasn’t it great? Believing in yourself, and believing that a higher power helped you reached your full potential? Doing your absolute best to ensure that you really have done everything you possibly can?”

Midorima threw him a disdainful look. Once upon a time, that look would’ve made Takao cackle in sly glee. “You mean, man proposes, God disposes? Takao. I told you. That way of thinking had been erroneous. Made my life better? On the contrary, all that effort did nothing. I presently want to change the way I live. Is that so wrong? Once again, Takao. Stop with all this ridiculous nonsense. Leave me alone.”

He turned around, and started walking out of the park. The sense of their very own world immediately dispelled. It was as though Midorima had been the one to cast it. Now that he was leaving, the sphere cracked, and cruel reality set in, poisoning everything.

Takao sat down on the ground. Reality was seeping into him, too. He had to accept it, accept this change in Shin-chan, even if it meant stiff smiles and forced laughter around him now. This resigned acceptance wrapped around the centre of Takao’s chest like a heavy, metal load. He sighed, and pulled at the grass at his feet.

So Takao did his best to carry around that load as he used to drag around Midorima on that rickshaw. Like the old Midorima, this new Midorima made dragging around the burden a complete chore. This was proven after school the next day.

“You want to do _what,_ Shin-chan?!”

Midorima shot Takao a glare. He sighed. “For the third time, Takao. I said. I want to get a girlfriend.”

Takao stared at him. “Say that word again.”

Midorima blinked. “Which one?”

“That last word.”

“Girlfriend?”

Takao stared at him, once more. “Say that word again.”

Midorima’s eye twitched. “Takao…” he began threateningly.

Takao lifted up his hands in placation. Be patient, he thought. This is the new Shin-chan. Gotta be patient. “So Shin-chan,” he said carefully. “Is this part of your new ‘way of living’?”

Midorima sniffed. “Yes, indeed. It is part of an exciting high school life, is it not? Having a girlfriend to…” He paused, searching for a word.

“…to do enjoyable activities with you,” he said finally. Then he gave a satisfied nod, to himself.

“And you want _me_ to help you look for a suitable girl?”

Midorima nodded again. “Precisely. Unfortunately, my previous way of living meant that my circle of acquaintances is bereft of any female presence. You, on the other hand, have some sort of foolish friendliness to your demeanour. Therefore, you will have at least conversed with some girls, and thus be able to help me in this matter.”

Takao rolled his eyes. “Gee, I’m so glad my ‘foolish friendliness’ can help you now, Shin-chan.” He sighed. “I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent,” replied Midorima briskly. Then he paused. “I believe this is where I say thank you, Takao.”

Takao gasped. He clutched his heart, afraid he was going to get a heart attack.

The next day, Takao produced a girl in front of Midorima like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Or a pigeon out of a sleeve. Needless to say, Midorima looked pleased.

“Very good, Takao,” he said, nodding with satisfaction.

“So Shin-chan,” Takao began with a bored tone. “Her name is Saki-chan, she’s from the class next to ours, and she likes basketball. So you can talk to her about it all you want.” He turned to speak to the girl. “Saki-chan, this is Shin-chan. You can call him Midorima-kun, Shin-chan, Shinta-chan, Shintarou-chan, or whatever name you wish. He’s fine with anything, really.”

He flicked his hands with a flourish, as though conducting an orchestra. “Go wild, kids.”

Midorima cleared his throat. “Dear Saki-san. My name is Midorima Shintarou. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance —”

“Hold up,” interrupted Saki. She turned to look at Takao with wide eyes. “Takao-kun! When you said you wanted to meet me at the end of school, this wasn’t what I expected! The truth is…” She looked down, a pretty pink decorating her cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, she kicked one of her feet, and continued, “…the truth is, I like _you,_ Takao-kun.”

Takao’s jaw dropped. All of a sudden, his throat felt like sand paper again.

Midorima merely frowned. “I don’t understand,” he stated.

Takao forced out a laugh. “Ha ha! Shin-chan, you’re such a joker.” He turned quickly to Saki and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Saki-chan. I’m really sorry. This was a misunderstanding. I can’t date you.” He winced. “I wanted you to date Shin-chan…”

Saki’s face crumpled. “B-but Takao-kun, the reason I liked basketball was because of _you_ …” She trailed off into sobs.

And so Takao ended up having to deal with a crying girl and a frowning, uncomprehending Midorima that evening.

After that disaster, Takao was fairly sure dating wouldn’t be at the top of Midorima’s agenda for his new ‘way of living’. If Takao had failed him in that regard, there wasn’t any way he would get anyone else to help him. Pineapples would certainly fly if he tried to get any of their senpais on the basketball team to help him.

So Takao went back to trying to adapt to this new Shin-chan. The load of it had settled in the centre of his chest, draining his energy day by day. Unlike with the old Shin-chan, he just couldn’t get used to this. He couldn’t shake off the regret, the longing for the old Shin-chan. In the past, it had been like he cared for a blooming rose— difficult and proud, yet the beauty was unmistakable. Now, it was like the rose was wilting, and Takao was trying with all his might to keep it flowering.

Another school day ended. Takao heaved himself off his chair, and slung his bag over his shoulder. With no basketball practice that day, Takao had been thinking of heading to the bookstore later. An alien place to him, for sure. But in this instance, it was the only place he could get books on sudden personality change.

Walking to the exit of the classroom, Takao wondered how he himself had changed, to the point of getting psychology books.

Then Midorima called him. “Takao.”

“Hmm?” Takao turned. They were both alone in the classroom. Light filtered through the windows, splitting the four concrete walls into a dual-coloured grid of boring grey and bright orange. Midorima hadn’t been looking at him. Then, in a swift tilt of his head, his gaze snapped up to Takao’s.

Suddenly, it was like the two of them were sucked into a vacuum, a lonely pause in the time continuum. Isolated from everyone else, with only each other for company. That classroom was like a box that had been flung out of the regular flow of time, all just for Midorima and Takao to have their conversation.

From his look, Takao could sense Midorima was going to say something important. Takao swallowed. He didn’t know where his abrupt lightheadedness came from.

Midorima walked up to him, then stopped right in front of him. Glancing upwards, Takao was suddenly conscious of the refined curve of his jaw, and the paleness of his neck. Midorima swallowed, and Takao followed the motion in his throat with his gaze.

He felt a warmth envelope his hand. With a start, he looked down to see that Midorima had taken it.

“Takao.”

His eyes flicked upwards to look into Midorima’s. Once more, he saw that they were darker, more intense, than their usual green.

“I was mistaken earlier when I told you to find me a girlfriend. I should, in fact, have chosen my partner myself. An individual who understands me. A person I am personally acquainted with. Someone I have known for a long time. In short.”

He took a deep breath. “You, Takao.”

Takao’s mouth fell open, slowly and comically. Okay, _now_ it was confirmed. Shin-chan was officially insane.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Takao, move.” Takao jumped, and the smirk spread across his face, out of habit, before it struck him yet again. Right. Shin-chan and he were now technically ‘dating’. And Shuutoku’s rooftop was certainly a romantic lunch spot. Heart jerking uncomfortably at the thought, he moved, allowing Midorima to sit next to him. 

It felt as though every nerve in Takao’s body had stiffened, suddenly aware of Midorima’s presence. As Midorima sat next to him, he paid attention to Shin-chan’s every move. But MIdorima was sitting at the same distance to him as he always did, not any closer. 

Maybe this dating thing wouldn’t be as weird as he thought. Maybe Takao could act more normally than he thought, even with this fundamental change in their relationship.

“Yo, Shin-chan!” He leaned towards Midorima, and watched as Midorima opened his bento, decorously, ritualistically, and snapped his chopsticks apart. The beautiful spread of Japanese food lay before him, like a piece of art.

“Onigiri~” Takao sang cheerily as he reached over to grab Midorima’s food. Immediately, expertly, without even a glance, Midorima whacked Takao’s fingers with his chopsticks. Hard. Takao retracted, howling.

“Is this how you treat your boyfriend?” Takao carried his hand tenderly in his other, and looked at Midorima, eyes wide with theatrical hurt. The moment he said the words, he wanted to kick himself. Did he _want_ a wave of awkwardness to befall upon them or something?

Sometimes Takao thought all those people — his mother, his sister, Coach Nakatani, Ootsubo-senpai, Miyaji-senpai, Kimura-senpai, and that random homeless guy by his house — were right when they said Takao talked _too much_. But Takao thought they all just didn’t know how to appreciate him, anyway.

But, still. Takao had been the one to bring it up. It was the first time any of them had openly acknowledged that they were, in fact, dating, since That Day.

Oh, That Day. (Takao always had a flair for the dramatic, and this was an actual Dramatic Moment he had taken note of, mentally this time. He did not want another watery death for his school notebooks.) 

Takao had not slept the entire night, and had instead practiced backflips in his room. He hoped that all the blood rushing to and from his head could, ironically, clear it. 

His thought process had been somewhat...erratic. First, he had agonized over the state of their friendship, and their partnership. There were the reactions of everyone in Shuutoku to consider. There was the reaction of Coach Nakatani to consider. There was the reaction of Saki-chan, and several others of Takao’s as of yet unknown secret admirers, to consider. And, oh Kami-sama and Oha Asa, there was the reaction of Midorima’s Miracle buddies to consider.

Then he had thought about himself. What did _he_ feel about Shin-chan? As Takao started thinking, he had become uncomfortable as he started thinking about Shin-chan’s graceful neck and fingers, contrasting with the strength evident in his back and shoulders. _That_ was when he had started doing the backflips. Then he had collapsed, face down on his floor, until that morning.

Takao still wasn’t entirely sure that Midorima asking him out _hadn’t_ been a dream. And now he _himself_ was the one acknowledging it as reality, even if it was in the form of a joke.

“This is how I treat _you_ ,” Midorima ate the grilled saba in his lunch with such grace and properness even the fish would have swooned in its grave with the respect given to it. “It is no better treatment than a pilferer deserves.”

“Shin-chan,” Takao said, seriously. “Do you _know_ how to date?” Immediately, he cringed, yet again. What was _wrong_ with him? He was saying all the wrong things, at the wrong time. _Shin-chan_ was the socially awkward one, not Takao.

He watched the ever-so-slight wobble of Midorima’s chopsticks as he reached for a pickled vegetable. “I know how to treat other people appropriately as according to how the relationship dictates.”

Takao privately thought that ‘other people’ _probably  —_ certainly — had a different view. But he pushed at the topic stubbornly anyway, feeling a little like picking at an old scab you weren’t supposed to.

“But —” Takao began, and was cut off as Midorima snapped his bento box shut. The rest of his words (“What are we _doing_?” and “I don’t understand how this helps you” and “I don’t know how to help you”) all died in his throat.

“If there is nothing more, I would like to go to class now,” Midorima said. “Unlike you, I aspire to become a productive member of society. You should, too. Couples with similar social standings historically have a slightly higher statistical correlation of staying together.”

It would have sounded brusque, and typically Shin-chan, but Takao saw him look to the distance, slight flush dusting his cheeks. He saw the bento box, left behind half-full, something too expensive to have been left behind deliberately. Takao’s throat felt suddenly dry.

So this was what it was like, dating Shin-chan. There was no chance of “you’re amazing, Takao” and “I love dating you, Takao” and “let’s walk to class together” and “are you cold” and “let’s act like an actual couple.”

Being Shin-chan’s best friend had been weird. Being his basketball partner and the dramatically metaphorical shadow to his dramatically metaphorical light had been weird. Takao had thought that being Shin-chan’s boyfriend would be even _weirder_ than all those things combined.

And yet, nothing seemed to have changed at all. Things were the same, yet different. It was like wearing clothes in all the wrong places, or like an awkward dance. The push and pull of Takao joking uncomfortably, Shin-chan responding solemnly. Takao trying not to take things, their _relationship_ , too seriously, and Shin-chan, taking everything _entirely_ seriously.

Maybe Takao should stop this before things got worse, and someone got hurt. Before he _himself_ got hurt.

As he stared at Shin-chan’s broad back, Takao remembered that he had used to sometimes feel that back looked lonely. And now, even though Takao was technically ‘dating’ him, that back still, somehow, looked lonely. It was then Takao realized he had been thinking about all the wrong things, since That Day.

Takao had been obsessing, all along, over what was going to happen to himself, when he should have been thinking about Shin-chan. Still struggling with knowing how to treat his friends. Still struggling with knowing how to treat people who cared about him.

Still struggling with losing the guidance he used to have complete belief in, when bitter losses corrode faith. Still lost, and trying to find a new way to live.

Takao felt a new conviction to find back the Shin-chan he knew and cared for. Not as a boyfriend, or a romantic partner, but as the only one Shin-chan could trust completely.

***

“Shin-chan!” Takao bounded up to him, smiling widely. Midorima turned, and Takao could read in every line of his body the urge to say “Go away” or “You’re being annoying” or something like that.

Then Takao read his double-take, and his hesitation. And Midorima _smiled_ , at Takao. “Good morning, Takao,” he said. Gently, even, or as gentle as Shin-chan could be. Which meant he lowered his voice one tiny decibel. 

Takao reeled back, terrified. Eyes stretched open, he clutched Midorima’s hand desperately. “Don’t _do_ that, Shin-chan!”

Midorima looked down at Takao. Takao noted absently that when Shin-chan looked at him like that, it really highlighted his long, pretty eyelashes. And was it just him, or did Shin-chan’s gaze look _warmer_ than usual? His green eyes were certainly darker.

“I thought you wanted me to act as appropriate to our current relationship,” Midorima said. He lifted a hand to push his glasses up, stiffly. But he did not pull his other hand out of Takao’s grip.

“Yeah, but not to act like you’re possessed again!” Takao exclaimed. “That holy water was _expensive_ , I’ll let you know.” His hand wrapped around Shin-chan’s comfortably, as he relaxed. Hm, he supposed he could get used to this. This was less awkward. Takao still felt the pang of _weirdness_ every time he remembered they were supposed to be dating. 

It was a little like a scratchy shirt. Wear it a few times, and eventually you start to like it. It eventually, once you feel ready to accept it, may even become your favourite shirt.

Midorima frowned as he finally noticed what was in Takao’s other hand. “What is the meaning of this, Takao?”

Takao pulled his hand out of Midorima’s, unconsciously noting the sudden cold. He opened the tupperware, and ate some of the kimchi. “It’s my lucky item, Shin-chan!” He waved the chopsticks cheerily at him.

Takao watched Shin-chan’s eyebrow twitch. Then he watched Midorima grit out, “You know it is a futile exercise. Why—”

He was cut off as Takao shoved a chopstick-ful of kimchi into his mouth. “It’s not futile, because kimchi is yummy!” Gesticulating the chopsticks self-importantly, Takao continued. “There’s never a reason _not_ to eat kimchi.”

Then he winked. “It’s not actually today’s lucky item. Oh, and it’s not Scorpio’s lucky item, either. I just chose it from yesterday’s list because I liked it the most! That’s a more fun way to follow Oha Asa, don’t you think?”

Hawk Eye activated, Takao watched Midorima stiffening with the effort not to correct him on the ‘proper’ way to practice Oha Asa’s philosophy. He watched him swallow the kimchi with a slightly disapproving look as he consumed Takao’s ‘blasphemy.’

Then Midorima turned away. “I have better things to do with my time than listening to your blathering.” Takao felt the disappointment sink into his heart, but he strengthened his resolve as he remembered the rest of his plans.

“Wait, Shin-chan!” Takao ran after him, several students glaring at him as some kimchi spilled on the corridors. “Let’s meet after school?”

Midorima turned his head slightly, so Takao saw his elegant profile. “I wouldn’t expect to be doing anything else.” 

Takao felt his heart jerk, but he smirked. “Kyaa, Shin-chan, so smooth! So cool~! I’m a lucky guy, aren’t I.”

He saw Midorima turn quickly away, facing his back to him. Takao watched the flush rise on his neck.

Takao’s grin was so wide it almost hurt, as he almost missed Midorima’s muttered “Shut up, Takao.”

Of course, Takao should have known that he was dealing with Midorima Shintarou. Getting him to do anything was like trying to get a grumpy cat-cantankerous old man hybrid to give a cutesy, happy, heartwarming hug. Or exorcising a ghost. It was just that difficult.

“ _No_ , Takao.”

“But Shin-chan, I thought you _wanted_ to be a better boyfriend.” Damn, acknowledging it out loud still made Takao cringe slightly. That shirt was _really_ scratchy. It still took some time getting used to.

“You should not be trying to get out of your stamina training. Your physical condition is still highly unsatisfactory for Shuutoku’s standards.”

“I’m not! Oha Asa said Scorpios should not be exerting themselves physically today.”

“You’re lying. Oha Asa does not say things like that.”

Silence descended as joy leapt in Takao’s throat, replacing words. Little by little, Shin-chan was coming back.

Still trying to contain the glee that had arose at Midorima’s acknowledgement of an Oha Asa he had been trying to deny for a while, Takao just watched as Shin-chan shuffled uncomfortably on the spot.

“...fine. Where do you want to go?”

Half an hour later, Takao had a clear assessment of Shin-chan’s excellent physical condition. He was in good shape. He was in _really_ good shape.

Takao felt a mixture of jealousy and impressed admiration as he watched Shin-chan breathe just as evenly as he always did, even as he crossed his arms and glanced irritably at Takao. Takao resigned himself to the fate of many more rickshaw-pulling trips before he could achieve that level of dignified, majestic grumpiness.  

“This is the worst possible place to bring a rickshaw. Takao, you better have a good explanation.”

Takao smiled widely. “I have the _best_ explanation!” Hope mounting, he looked at Shin-chan straight in the eyes. This would bring him back, Takao knew it.

Takao declared, “Oha Asa said a train station was my lucky place for today!” Still smiling, he made to continue.

But the glare Midorima gave him almost wiped the smile off Takao’s face. The bitterness, and anger, in it pierced through Takao’s chest. Takao suddenly found he could not breathe. Had he gone too far?

“I know what you’re doing, Takao,” Midorima’s voice was simmering with anger. “All this while, you’ve been trying to get me to see the value in believing in things like Oha Asa in my life. And now, you’re trying to show _support_ ,” he spat the word like it disgusted him, “by trying to believe in it too.” 

His fists were clenched, and trembling. “Is it perfectly implausible for you to understand that I don’t believe in the philosophy of man proposes, God disposes, anymore? We lost, anyway. It is a futile endeavour.” 

Then, quietly, each word stabbing into Takao’s heart, “Did you become my significant other only because you thought _I_ needed it?” The unasked question hung between them like a thick, choking gas. Did Takao even really care? What did Takao feel for Shin-ch—Midorima?

The announcement for an arriving train broke in at that point, and crowds of people pushed past them. If Midorima had not been so tall, Takao would have missed him in the throngs that walked between them. As it were, he could still see Midorima’s gaze, stretching towards him, slowly choking him in a vice grip of guilt, despair and confusion.

Takao reached out a hand and gripped Midorima’s wrist. Without a word, he pulled him towards the side, where the benches faced the train.

“Let’s sit, Shin-chan,” to Takao, the words sounded like it was coming from someone else’s mouth. Did he always sound so subdued?

The words fell heavy to Takao, and _wrong_ , as he spoke. “Okay, I just made up the train station. Oha Asa didn’t really say it’s Scorpio’s lucky place for today.” He did not dare look at Midorima next to him. Instead, he stared at his hands.  

“I tried taping my fingers, too,” Takao kept staring at his fingers sheepishly. “Let’s just say I gave up because of practical purposes.” It was hard to hold anything with ten burritos, after all. 

Takao sighed, and looked at the train without really seeing it. Beside him, he could sense Midorima sitting ramrod straight, tall and regal as always.

“I don’t know why I thought this would work. I guess I finally felt like sharing what you used to do with you, now that you don’t do it anymore,” Takao watched the people rushing into the train. A little girl and her brother, making a game of who could make the weirdest face through the train windows. A salaryman, eyes gripped by a shonen manga as he was transported beyond train stations into fantasy worlds.

“I guess I just missed the old Shin-chan too much,” Takao sighed. The old Shin-chan, who Takao still did not know what he really felt for. The new Shin-chan, who Takao was currently dating, with whom Takao was trying to figure out what they were supposed to be.

“Why the train station?” Midorima still sounded oddly formal, the remnants of bitterness and disappointment jaggedly edging his voice.

“Sometimes I come here with my little sister. We’d make up stories about the people who walked by,” Takao smiled, remembering stories about undercover superheroes and hidden princes. Of a little sister who still believed in things that might not necessarily be true, but gave her comfort and strength in the world around her.

A calmness crept over Takao, slow and gentle like a spring breeze. He tentatively reached out a hand, and gripped Shin-chan’s. It still felt warm, even if the fingers were oddly bare. The sensation of the cashmere glove crept over Takao’s hand, yet again. It felt right.

“I hope you feel better soon, Shin-chan. You don’t seem like Shin-chan without believing in yourself.” In himself, and in the Oha Asas, the superstitions, the supposed higher powers that gave him the strength to be a Miracle. To be a monster.

Takao did not say all that, because he suddenly felt Shin-chan’s shoulder against his. A little point of contact from which a glow of heat emerged from. The kimchi container in his hand, ignored as he only saw Shin-chan in his entire vision. 

Hawk Eye or not, it did not matter. All he saw was Shin-chan’s closed eyes, and everything around him disappeared as Takao closed his own. Shin-chan’s presence, enveloping him like the warm blanket in winter. The crowds, the train, the announcements, all became distant sounds as he felt the gentle, firm pressure of Shin-chan’s lips on his own. 


	4. Chapter 4

Things happened naturally from then on. Takao was actually surprised at that. Perhaps all those times he pandered to Midorima’s craziness and his sudden change were in preparation for this. This, however, was different. Entirely different, from being his butler/rickshaw chauffeur/oddjobs man.

One weekend, Takao showed up in front of Midorima’s house, grinning. Midorima emerged with a hand on his spectacles, obscuring half his face. Takao’s grin widened the moment he saw him.

His fingers were taped. So Shin-chan was trying, after all. He wondered if this was also thanks to him. 

His lips twitching, Takao lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, Shin-chan! Ready for our date?” 

Midorima immediately stiffened. The parts of his face not obscured reddened. Seeing this, Takao’s lips twitched even more.

“Yes,” said Midorima. When he reached Takao, standing face-to-face, he went on, “Where are we going?” 

“Ah, this is what I’m really proud of!” Takao replied enthusiastically. “So you know how you play the piano?”

“Yes. I am aware of my own abilities, Takao.”

“And how you like listening to classical music?”

“Yes, Takao.” Midorima’s eyebrow twitched. “I am also aware of my own interests.”

“And you know how I have absolutely zero knowledge on both of those things?”

Midorima sighed. “Yes, I am also aware of that. I have no problem with it, Takao. Just get to the point. Where are we going?”

“Weelll…” Takao said, ignoring Midorima’s slight irritation. “I thought that during _this_ date, we could spend it in the music store! So that you can teach me all about why you like all that boring, old, fogey stuff.”

Midorima blinked. “That’s...really quite…” 

Takao winked. “Isn’t it a _great_ idea, Shin-chan?” He leaned on Midorima’s shoulder. All the better to observe the curve of his jaw, the refined angles of his features. The delicate contours of his lips. 

A red flush rose, slowly, on Midorima’s face once again. “It certainly sounds enjoyable, Takao,” he said quietly.

Takao laughed. He raked his gaze across Midorima’s face, appreciating the subtle redness on his features. “No guarantees that I’ll remain awake throughout everything, though. _Especially_ if you start sounding like an old fart.”

Midorima sniffed. He slipped out from under Takao’s weight and started walking. Takao let out another laugh.

Just as he moved to follow Midorima, he spotted Midorima’s other hand.

“Shin-chan!” He reached out to grab it. “You didn’t tape your fingers on this hand...?”

Midorima turned to look at Takao, raising his eyebrows. “Yes. It is merely because I ran out of bandages at home. I hadn’t purchased any since we...lost to Rakuzan.” He frowned. “I should make it a point to buy some soon.”

“Oh.” Takao shrugged. “Then why don’t we buy some before heading to the music store? My treat, Shin-chan.” He winked, again. “There, now. Aren’t I such a thoughtful boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Takao.”

As they headed off to the pharmacy, Takao merely smiled. Throughout the walk, he kept Midorima’s hand in his.  

Takao could get used to this. No. He wouldn’t _just_ get used to this. This...it made him feel like doing even more backflips. And this time, it wouldn’t be because he was trying to figure out his situation. This time, he already knew where he stood. It was a good place. A _great_ place. A place which reminded him of that time he and Midorima were transported into that other world, with only the two of them. Damn, that was a space of such peace and contentment. 

For the next few weeks, Takao kept feeling like he was in that isolated sphere. With every flush, every eyebrow twitch, every gesture he saw in Shin-chan, the sensation came up. It floated up in the centre of his chest like a hot air balloon in a blue, cloudless sky. For example, during the start of one school day.

“Here.”

Takao raised his eyebrows as a thermos flask was suddenly plonked on his desk. He looked up to see Midorima had, once again, covered half his face with taped fingers.

“Shin-chan!” Takao gasped, clutching his heart dramatically. “A special Shin-chan-made romantic drink just for _me_? That’s so _thoughtful_!” He looked at it from the corner of his eye. “But...uh...if you made it from scratch...even the most dedicated boyfriend wouldn’t touch it…”

“Idiot.” That was probably the closest thing to a blurt Midorima had ever said. “It’s not a drink I made myself. It’s Oolong tea.”

“Ooh...Oolong tea! That’s really...wait— _why’d_ you get me Oolong tea?”

Midorima sniffed. “Oolong tea has excellent cholesterol-lowering effects. Together with your favourite food, kimchi, you will be able to have a healthy diet. Make sure you drink Oolong tea, Takao.” 

Takao stared at him. “Okaay...do I have some sort of cholesterol-powered disease that I don’t know about and you do? Why the sudden obsession, Shin-chan?”

“It’s not an obsession, Takao. Although the benefits behind Oolong tea are undeniable.” He paused for a moment. “Oolong tea is your lucky item for today.”

Takao’s lips immediately curved upwards into a grin. This was a Shin-chan branded sign of affection, for sure. He thought of that special place with only the two of them, again.

Picking up the flask, he said, “Aww, Shin-chan! Thanks! I’ll make sure to appreciate every sip.”

“Good.” Midorima paused, thoughtfully. “Be sure not to burn your tongue when you drink it as well.” 

Takao rolled his eyes. 

Midorima turned, about to head back to his desk when Takao’s gaze fell on his hands. Once more, his eyes widened at the unusual state of them. Instead of being carefully taped, the ends of the bandages could be seen poking through, and the edges were frayed. 

Takao’s hand shot out to grab Midorima’s. “Shin-chan! Look at your hands! You didn’t tape them properly again.”

“Oh.” Midorima frowned at his fingers in Takao’s grasp. “How arduous.” He started wrapping them slowly and deliberately, still within Takao’s hand. 

Even while watching Midorima doing that, however, a strange feeling crept through Takao, as though that contented sphere they were in experienced a slight crack. His throat dry, he said, “Shin-chan, where’s your lucky item for today?”

Midorima paused in his movements, like he was deliberating on every word in Takao’s question. After a short while, he replied, “Oh yes. I believe I have it in my schoolbag. A pink letter. That is Cancer’s lucky item for today.

Takao nodded. He released a quiet breath of relief. So that strange sensation was merely imaginary after all. He really should learn to turn off his blasted intuition when he was out of the court, it was impinging even on his daily life.

He continued to watch Midorima frowning, as he wrapped his fingers all over again.

The next time Takao experienced that sensation, it was a rainy day. Takao was, as usual, tasked with sending Midorima back home in the rickshaw. Despite the change in their relationship, the rock-paper-scissors game to decide who would ride in the rickshaw was something they had kept. It had started in the beginning of their relationship, and continued through even in the rocky parts. To Takao, that game was like a constant, a pillar for their relationship to be tethered to. 

Since it was raining, Takao and Midorima waited it out in the corridors of a shaded street. They watched people rushing to and fro in the rain, some using umbrellas, others using old newspapers to shade themselves from the rain.   

Midorima had been uncharacteristically silent. Even throughout Takao’s complaints about everything from the rain, to whether Shin-chan had gained weight because somehow it had been more difficult to drag him that day. 

“Are you sure you didn’t read the scale wrongly, Shin-chan?” 

Midorima nodded.

“Well...if you say so...I still think you should check up on your vision maybe.” Takao looked out at the rain, a blanket of grey right in front of them, and sighed. “Maan...I thought if we did everything your Oha Asa said, such terrible weather wouldn’t happen! Right, Shin-chan? I mean, Cancers and Scorpios were even ranked second and third!”

At his words, Midorima suddenly stiffened. Takao, ever astute to anything Shin-chan did, turned to look at him, sitting primly in the rickshaw. 

“Shin-chan? What’s the matter?”

Midorima had been looking out at the grey blanket like Takao. When Takao spoke, he turned to face him. His expression was strange. It was all jumbled-up, much like his features weren’t quite sure how to arrange themselves.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Takao. We need to talk. Why don’t you sit here, next to me.” He patted the area beside him.

Takao swallowed. The crack, there it was again. All of a sudden, he couldn’t hear the sounds of the rain. Even though the zinc roof above them was vibrating so intensely, he shouldn’t have been able to hear anything else.

Next to Shin-chan, the slight twitching in his fingers was more obvious. It was like he wanted to twist them on his lap. Midorima took a deep breath, and said, “I am going to be very straightforward with you, Takao.”

Takao laughed. It sounded strange, to him. “Since when have you never, Shin-chan?”

“Exactly.” Midorima nodded. “I have always been frank with you. And therefore, I will be frank with you in this conversation. Takao. I don’t think we should have this relationship anymore.”

Everyone who knew Takao would most definitely say he was dramatic. In this instance, however, he wasn’t. Dramatism would only arise when one wasn’t expecting it to happen. Somehow, for this, Takao _had_ been expecting it.

Midorima’s sentence didn’t strike him, or hit him. It merely came over him like a quotidian event, as though the sentence had been a train conductor’s announcement.

Takao smiled at Midorima. That was, after all, something he believed Shin-chan needed.

“Okay, Shin-chan,” he said.

Midorima blinked. “...You accept it?” 

“Yeah.” He continued smiling, even though the corners of his lips were heavy. “I understand you, Shin-chan. You think a lot for every little thing. You think _too much_ about every little thing. So of course, for something like this, I would expect you to have thought long and hard before saying it straight to me.”

A pause. Despite that, Takao still couldn’t hear the rain screaming down above them.

“...I did, indeed, consider this matter at great length. Nevertheless, even if you have accepted this decision so readily, I believe that I still owe you an explanation.”

“Shin-chan, it’s okay, really...”

“The reason I think we shouldn’t continue our relationship is not because of you, Takao. It’s because of me.”

Oh, dear Kami-sama. Dear Oha Asa. Shin-chan was giving him the cliched ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ talk. Takao suddenly wished his ears could open themselves up to the rain instead. But, alas, he was always hypersensitive to whatever Shin-chan said or did.       

“You have been patient with me throughout my troubles with getting past our loss to Rakuzan. It was clear that you did your best to help me through it. I am very grateful to you for that. However…” 

He paused for a moment. Then he went on, “While your efforts were admirable and to some degree, effective, I am still not able to wholeheartedly believe in Oha Asa as I used to in the past.”

The unspoken words were clear to Takao. Shin-chan still couldn’t believe in _himself._ Takao sensed a weight, different from the previous one, settle within him. This was the weight of disappointment in himself. He hadn’t been able to help Shin-chan.

As though listening to his thoughts, Midorima said, “This isn’t your fault, Takao. As I have mentioned before, this fault lies with me alone. Hence the reason for this disunion.” 

Disunion. What a totally Shin-chan word. He was endearing to the very end.

“I believe that it is unfair of me to continue our relationship when I am feeling so...disoriented, and lost, for lack of a better word. I think that I have to be in a better place, before we can continue.” 

He took a deep breath. “You deserve that, at the very least, from me, Takao.”

Takao saw him take another breath, about to continue further. Shin-chan was convoluted and verbose, even to the very end. Before he could say another word, however, Takao leaned in, and pressed his lips to Shin-chan’s. 

The action did the trick. Midorima stopped immediately.

Takao brushed Shin-chan’s lips and tongue, lightly, with his own tongue, before retreating from the warmth. From that special little world with only the two of them. It had long since dispelled.

“You don’t have to say anything else, Shin-chan. Like I said. I understand.” Once again, he smiled. “Basically, you don’t feel like yourself yet. And until you do, we can’t date.” 

Midorima had gone red. He averted his gaze from Takao. “Regarding basketball…” 

“Don’t worry about that,” said Takao, waving his hand. “I’ll still be your one and only partner, Shin-chan.” He clutched his hands in front of his chest, in dramatic exaggeration. “As always.”

Shin-chan, if possible, went redder. “Shut up, Takao.”

Takao laughed.

He didn’t know if he could ever brush that quiet, contented sphere again. That place had been an isolated incident, a truly exclusive part of his life. The feelings transpired within him during that special point in time could quite possibly never be replicated again, like the first lick of an ice cream, the first jump on a trampoline. But he had touched that place multiple times with Shin-chan. And he was certain that he could do it again, next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks everyone for sticking with this fic till the very end! What we really aimed to do was explore Midorima and Takao's relationship when something fundamental changes between them. We hope that we managed to show their growth and development throughout and that you enjoyed reading this just as much as we enjoyed writing this! Midorima and Takao have one of the most stable yet fascinating bonds in the fandom, so it was fun trying to shake things up. ;)
> 
> We would love you forever if you leave comments, whether good or bad. =) Hearing from you really means the world to us, and each and every word you leave is close to our hearts.
> 
> Fun fact: All Oha Asa lucky items mentioned are real, obtained from the [Oha Asa](http://oha--asa.tumblr.com/) translation site!


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